Unwilling Angels
by SammySoSassy
Summary: It was forced upon him. He didn't choose to be this way, to be perfect, to help, protect those in need. If he had his way, it never would've happened. She would still be alive. They would all be alive. But they were gone. He was suffering. Alone. It was all his fault. As if his pain wasn't punishment enough, he was plagued with the memories of all of the horrible things he had done
**Hey guys, so this is my new story. I've seen that there are a bunch of these types of stories going around, so I decided to give it a try. This is gonna be a sort of prologue chapter, to test the waters. I don't know if I'll make anymore chapters after this, but if you guys like it, then I'll continue it it.**

 **Don't worry, I'm still writing my other story,** _ **The Game of Life.**_ **If you haven't read that one, please go check it out, it would mean the world to me. Let me know if you guys like it :)**

 **On with the story!**

His wings reached the ground when he walked. He hated that. It made the tips of his wings dirty. And as much as he wanted to complain about it, he couldn't. Not when he was surrounded by humans.

The humans could see him, sure, but his wings? His wings were nonexistent to the humans who walked amongst him. All they say was a man with the face of an angel.

They were right, of course. He _was_ an angel. A guardian angel, technically, but an angel none the less.

Girls around him blushed as he looked at them. He smirked to himself. When he was a human, he would've broken every one of those girls' hearts. But then…

Many people wished they could be an angel, that they could fly, that they could do whatever they wanted. But not him. This… curse was forced upon him. It was punishment for the horrible thing he had done oh so many years ago.

And even though it was centuries ago. The memories were still fresh in his mind. Their faces, their gaspes, the screams...

As if that wasn't punishment enough, now he had to protect these strangers because he couldn't protect the ones he loved.

The worst part:

He wasn't allowed to love.

He had been doing this for centuries, helping, protecting, saving. Thousands had fallen for him. He had only fallen for one.

They were perfect together. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, two peas in a pod, their souls were intertwined.

She was beautiful, and even though he had told her that every day, she never believed him, with her red, fiery hair, her bright green eyes that shone like emeralds, the most beautiful he had seen in all his years, her freckles that dusted her nose like snowflakes, her small hands that were able to capture the most beautiful scenes with only a few strokes of a pencil. What made her even more beautiful was her personality. She was smart, and though she didn't seem to be at first, she was kind, the kindest person he had ever met. She was humble. Generous. Headstrong and feisty. She was willing to give her life for someone she didn't even know.

And now she was gone, too.

Even though it had been years since it had happened, he still couldn't get her out of his mind.

It was all his fault. All of it was. If he had only listened to the instructions…

The first time he had woken up with his new wings, he found his head empty, except for what he had done to the ones he loved, and three simple rules that seemed to be etched into his mind.

Protect anyone who deserves to be protected.

Don't tell anyone about yourself or your past.

Don't fall in love.

The rules had seemed easy enough when he first got them, but as the days passed, it got harder and harder to follow them. At least, the first two did. The rule about falling in love seemed ridiculous.

 _Him? Fall in love? As if._ If you went up to him and told him that he would ever fall in love, he would've laughed in your face. He had always been known as the heartbreaker in his town. If you wanted a one night stand, he was your man. He promised himself that he would never fall in love.

That had all changed the night of the accident.

And now he was here.

He walked down the streets, pushing his way through the crowds, suddenly eager to visit her.

"Get out of my way!" He shouted.

A few people glared at him and moved out of his way, but he didn't care. He had to see her. Even if it would break his heart.

When he finally reached his destination, he sighed in relief, plopping down on the earth.

"Hey Clare," He whispered. "I brought you something." He pulled out a small flower out of his jacket. A rose. He smiled to himself. "It's got thorns, just like you, Clare. Do you like it?"

He placed the rose on her gravestone. Time had not been kind to it. The stone was crooked and worn down. Her name was barely visible, the description completely gone. But that didn't matter. He knew it by heart.

"Clarissa Adele Fairchild.

August 23rd 1991-December 19th, 2010

Lover, Friend, Daughter.

You will never be forgotten, your smile will forever be in our minds"

Bullshit.

They didn't care about her. They all hated her. They all wanted her to die. They finally got what they wanted.

Clary was his 253rd client. He had been "assigned" to her like everyone else had. He had followed the same routine. He bumped into her on the street. He spoke to her a bit. He convinced her that they were childhood friends, in the same class in kindergarten, then implanted false memories into her mind. He then proceeded to enroll in the same college as her. He kept a close watch on her.

He had to protect her from herself.

And from there, their love for each other grew and grew. He knew everything about her.

She knew everything about him.

He told her everything, even though he knew it would put her in danger.

Looking back, it was so selfish of him. Sure, she wouldn't still be alive right now, it had already been 75 years since her death. She would've died from natural causes by now. But maybe if he hadn't told her anything, hadn't fallen in love, he could've kept her longer. She would still be alive.

He thought back to her last moments. The way she looked at him. The way her chest heaved when she breathed. The way her hand went limp. The way she spoke his name one last time.

Tears were flowing down his face freely now.

He spoke to her, telling her about his newest client. He could feel her there. He could feel her smiling back at him, laughing at his jokes.

He almost felt her place a hand on his.

But it was all in his head. She was gone, and it was all his fault. There was nothing he could do to get her back.

 **And done! If you guys like it, I'll continue the story. Can we get 5 reviews? Love you guys!**

 **~Sammy**


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